It takes a long span of minutes before all are seated. The excited chatter dies down to a whisper, then to near silence as King Saul, flanked by his wife and heir now, rises to his feet on the dais.
"Noble friends and stalwarts, allies true: with heart as light as gossamer, We say to all this company 'Indeed, well met!'"
"Huzzoo," you call out, joining in the cheer that rises up.
"Th'occasion is a merry one, at last. These many months in Flenders waging war have tested all the corners of our land. Thy grateful monarch honors all thy toil…and with no slight to any house in mind, we recognize that Lady Gramercy and the courageous family she commands have sacrifices made both deep and dire, and helped Us most of all to win the peace."
Boisterous applause fills the room. You see Lady Gramercy herself stand to acknowledge it with a fine deep bow to the Throne. Her stiff collar nearly scrapes the floor. "Fashion is dumb," you murmur to yourself.
"Lady Gramercy—or tell me true—is it, as I hear, 'Hotfoot' thou prefers't?" The crowd laughs dutifully at th'invocation of her infamous nickname. "A toast to thee and all thy worthy train…."
Glasses are raised across the entire room. You realize you don't have one. How is this possible?